


Romeo vs Juliet

by Lelline



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Actually Has a Plot, All The Tropes, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Badasses that turn into 12 year olds around their crushes, Charming men in ugly clothes, Competent Gavin, Do you trust me tho?, Fake AH Crew, Fake Relationship, Female Jack, Gang typical violence, Gavin's real love is an ugly gun, Gay theatre nerd gangsters, Humour, M/M, Ridiculous casting choices, Ryan the dork, Ryan's horrible shoes, Secret Identity, Still no death tags, Strong powerful women, Theatre, UST, WIP, What am I doing?, you read that right
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-07-22 11:34:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7436197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lelline/pseuds/Lelline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It would be unusual for a crime lord to secretly moonlight as a local actor.<br/>For Gavin its a nice break from his usual jobs, as well as good practice. But how much energy is he willing to spend on starcrossed lovers and boring old "Dad Jeans" Ryan when bigger fish like the Vagabond are starting to circle the Fakes' Turf</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not going to apologize for the stupid title.

There was something about holding a gun that made Gavin feel calmer.

There was the feel of it in his hand, the cool metal mixed with the thick black grip. His favourite gun was a gold plated monstrosity, more gaudy than practical, and surprisingly hard to use. It had too much kickback. It jammed if you didn’t treat it right, it was a little heavier than it should have been and it flaked if you rubbed it too much. But that gold gun was everything that the golden prince of the Fake Achievements had to be.

It was dazzling, it was gaudy, it was somehow intimidating, it was dangerous…

And it was only gold plated. Underneath it was cheap and tarnished, made out of pieces that didn’t really fit together. It was poorly chosen and possibly easily replaced by something better.

But Gavin wanted his gun. And Geoff wanted his Gavin.

It had to be poetic in some way, that all in all the gun wasn’t dangerous unless someone was holding it. And Gavin wasn’t dangerous unless he had a gun in his hands.

So maybe that was it. Maybe the reason he only felt calm with a gun in his hands was because that was the only time he was something to be feared.

It wouldn’t matter if he was ready to face something. It didn’t matter how much or how little he had prepared for a moment. His confidence depended on whether or not he had his gun.

But sometimes he had to do without.

He squared his shoulders, preparing himself for battle. His clothes were gaudy at least, hiding how tired and broken he was beneath the gold stitching and silks. He had a knife on his hip, but he rarely used it. Michael was their close combat guy. Michael was braver and faster than Gavin.

But despite his fear, Gavin was a champion at pretending to be brave. If nothing else, Gavin could adapt to any role. The man was a grifter, a liar and a cheat.

And tonight was just another role.

He stepped forward, glancing through the crowd and spotting Geoff nearby. The older gent would have to stay back, Gavin was alone in this, but having him nearby helped.

Gavin focused on his targets, waiting for the right timing. Already, Gavin of the Fake Achievements was faded away into the background of his mind, and he was someone else.

He was Benedick. And he was never going to settle down and marry, he was intent on the life of a warrior.

Within the next few hours he would give into the plots of others and settle with Beatrice, but for now he was to swear off marriage. Honestly, Benedick wasn’t Gavin’s favourite role to play, but he had to admit Shakespeare’s works were beautifully written and varied. This was a good chance for him to practice different roles, to practice being different people and to keep his talents sharp as the crew kept their heads down and trained the new guy. With Ray all but retired and Jeremy still a little too green they weren’t ready for a war.

So for now, the only roles Gavin could take were thespian.

After opening night, the performances were always too easy for Gavin. By the midpoint of the first play, he would be committed to whatever interpretation of the character he had begun. By the start of the second night, it would just feel like slipping into an old set of jeans. It was nice perfecting different personas on a stage, where his only danger was public embarrassment, instead of trying it in the field. He did it all for the thrill of the first night.

No one was surprised when he spent the next morning picking out a new role.

Geoff was the one to drop him off at the casting call in the next town over. Gavin slipped into the old familiar role of the hopeful would-be actor, hiding his bisexuality and passing as gay to discourage them from casting him in a role he’d already used. It was an old play, a familiar play, but sometimes it was interesting to try things from a different angle.

Besides, he needed a smaller role this time. Geoff hadn’t said a word yet, but there were whispers on the street of another crew forming. So far, he’d just heard two names: Jack Pattillo and the Vagabond, but that was enough to make even brave Michael nervous. Jack was a vicious strategist, known only for her conquest of the northern parts of the city and her garish clothes. The Vagabond on the other hand was death itself, rumoured to simply be a walking corpse that fed upon the souls of the dead. It was more likely that he was a skilled assassin and had a flair for the dramatic, but they both had the skill and reputation to cause trouble for the Fakes. Together, their crew would be enough of a threat to cause a war.

So for now Gavin smiled and recited lines and aimed low. He let himself get distracted by the entrance of a late auditioner. The man was tall and handsome enough, though his jeans were terrible and his shoes deserved to be taken out back and burned.

So Gavin winked, figuring a man like that had to be straight, and it would help sell his “strictly gay” angle for his casting.

The stranger surprised him though, giving him a loose charming smile and winking back. He stepped forward and recited his lines with gusto and the strong voice of a classically trained actor. He was performing as if he was already on a stage, gestures and voice exaggerated enough to reach the back of the theatre.

He was unfortunately a little older though, while remaining too young to play a parental role. He’d get something off to the side, a role where age didn’t matter.

‘Dad Jeans’ could prove to be a nice distraction at least. He wasn’t hard to look at, and he moved like a predator even though he clearly wasn’t. He fumbled his introduction and apologized worse than a Canadian making their way through a crowd.

Gavin continued to just smile, wondering if the man seemed as fun as he seemed.

There would be no harm in flirting with a castmate, right?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Ezio](http://eziocauthon89.tumblr.com) and [Emrys](http://oswiniarty.tumblr.com) for watching Romeo + Juliet with me and letting me bounce my terrible ideas off them.

As he settled down on a seat in the auditorium, close to the front, Gavin was reminded of the fact he wasn’t sure who he was.

It wasn’t a new thought, and in fact he had already wasted hours musing on it. Honestly, he spent so long trying on different personas and convincing the world that they were real, that he couldn't tell when he was being himself, or when he was just slipping into an old familiar persona.

This time his new role was Benvolio.

It was the first time he had been cast as the would-be peacemaker, but he had performed Romeo and Juliet so many times that it was a familiar role. Benvolio is Romeo’s cousin, a kind man who supposedly hides his temper and his anger in favour of helping his friends. He was the opposite of the ‘real’ Gavin, who would rather fake anger and violence to protect his friends. 

Though admittedly, deep down Gavin had to have some sort of a mean streak to do what he did.

Or maybe he didn't have a mean streak at all. Maybe he just was trying to fit in with his peers and friends. Geoff sometimes seemed to just want to watch the world burn, while Michael had no filter. Ray had been more like Gavin, at least hiding most of his darker inclinations.

Gavin wasn't even sure anymore if he knew what he liked, beyond acting. He had a few dislikes, like soggy bread and wet socks, but it was hard to tell when he actually enjoyed something, or if it was just a good thing to focus on to enhance his character or draw his attention away.

He barely noticed his cast mate approaching him until the other man was nearly upon him. It was Blaine Gibson, a man who usually stuck to being a stagehand, though this time he seemed to have tried for more. A copy of the script was in his hands and his lips were slightly quirked, betraying his delight.

“Hey Blaine.” Gavin managed a smile, not sure if he was glad to see the other. Most of the familiar faces he saw were used to him. None seemed aware of his real job, but they had all seem him flip through personalities like hats. The Brit wasn't sure if they realized he did it on purpose, acting out a character at an audition so it would be easier for directors to see him in that role. Some of them had to think he was just weird or confused.

Still no one had ever asked him about his sexuality at least. Last time he had acted like the straightest man alive, and now he had been eying up ‘Dad Jeans’ like he was curious if there was room for two in there.

“Hey Gavin.” Blaine settled in beside him. “How are you?”

“Good. You’re finally going out on the stage?” He couldn’t remember the other man expressing an interest in acting, though he had a good face for theatre. Gavin would put money down on there being a girl involved somewhere. A girl or a bet.

“Yes.” Blaine smirked. “You’re looking at the new Tybalt. What about you? Romeo?”

“No. Benvolio.”

“Ah.” A familiar voice came from behind them, and Gavin was genuinely surprised to see ‘Dad Jeans’ sitting right behind him. He was dressed in another pair of terrible jeans, lower half lost to the fabric. This time however he had paired it with an oversized grey sweatshirt, so worn down Gavin wouldn't be able the guess what the faded logo on the front had once said.

The man looked like a Dad from the nineties. Gavin was almost expecting a matching wife and kids to suddenly appear, dressed in matching outfits and with horrifying perms.

Whatever crush he had on Dad Jeans, died just as quickly as one of Ray’s favourite memes.

“I guess that means we’ll be working together then. I’m Mercutio, though you can call me Ryan.”

It was impossible how quickly Gavin’s crush was rebounding, the man’s smile a little too charming and his voice like velvet. He wasn’t handsome or charming enough to make the baggy clothes look good, but you could tell how easily he could freshen up and become something more. Gavin almost wanted to see it, see the transformation that stripping Ryan’s clothes off him would cause.

But that could be just the years of single life talking.

Gavin found himself smiling, though he had not decided to. He went along with it, turning his gaze playful instead of surprised. “So we’ll get the chance to act together then. Are you ready to play the crowd favourite?” 

“Yeah.” Ryan quirked an eyebrow, “Are you ready to Mercutio’s favourite?”

“I don’t know. Wouldn’t Romeo be his favourite?” Gavin shifts in his seat, slim legs coming up to tuck under his chin so that he can sit sideways in the chair, almost cuddling it. He immediately regrets not kicking his shoes off first but in the interest of seeming cool he couldn’t fix it now.

“No.” The older man leaned forward a little, letting Gavin see the flecks of green and gold in his eyes. It was not fair how quickly ‘Dad jeans’ could charm Gavin into forgetting how badly he was dressed. “Mercutio dies cursing Romeo, but he never bears ill will towards his close friend Benvolio.”

Gavin could only combat charm with charm, though he found his heart rate accelerating despite his usual control. He was a killer and a con artist, not a charmed schoolgirl. He’d never hear the end of it if one of the guys saw him like this. But it was impossible to resist. “Some think of them as more than just friends.”

The older man laughed, relaxing a little and cutting through the sexual tension yet again. “Do you ship it?”

The blonde just smiled wider, “You actually know what that is?”

“Shipping? Yeah.” Ryan waggled his eyebrows.

“That can’t be right. You’re too old.” Gavin blurted shamelessly.

“Hey, how old do you think I am?” Ryan sounded annoyed, but his face was still smiling.

It felt natural to talk to Ryan, the older man reassuring and intriguing. He knew way too much and way too little about nerd culture and even admitted to preferring a keyboard sometimes to a real controller. He smiled like a rom com star, eyes always focused solely on whoever he talked to, and he had the sort of manners that screamed southern charm.

And more importantly, he was a skilled actor.

He was of a different school than Gavin, obviously emulating traditional Shakespearean performances over modern acting. He’d already memorized most of his lines and could easily emulate a sword fight if given a prop sword. He already knew his role a little too well, performing his lines like they were engraved into his soul.

Gavin for once just tried to keep up. And to his utter surprise he couldn’t. He felt like he was just reciting lines, only acting like an object for Ryan to bounce his lines off of.

The highlight of it all was when they tried Mercutio’s final scene. 

Ryan delivered Mercutio’s curse with such fervour that Gavin had to wonder if Mercutio was truly placing a curse upon the two houses. Kerry, their Romeo, seemed just as overwhelmed as Gavin.

After practice, Gavin just felt bewildered. He went home, fed his cats, and went straight back into practicing, giving Smee heartfelt advice to forget about Rosaline, and telling Lloyd to stop teasing him about trying to keep the peace.

Two nights later, he went to rehearsal with a clear picture of Benvolio in his mind. That lasted ten minutes until Ryan showed up in a navy sweater and fitted jeans. He’d even donned a pair of dark vans, which didn't seem to suit his style at least didn’t look like they would be rejected from Walmart for being too cheap looking.

“Hey Gavin.” Ryan turned his million watt smile towards the unprepared brit.

And that was how Gavin began to fall in love with some 30-something year old theatre geek. It was a problem. The guy was too good to be true, and altogether too *good* to date one of the top criminals in the southern US. The man was just a toasted marshmallow, a little sharp but ultimately too soft and warm and gooey. It would be messy to get involved with him.

With any luck, the flirting would be it for Gavin. He hoped that the older man would keep things simple. They could flirt, they could make eyes at each other, but any further than that would be risky.

Gavin had to keep things simple. Had to keep his hands to himself and had to keep their relationship friendly but professional.

That plan backfired the first day he practiced in earnest.

Gavin had been all too ready that day. He’d thought he had understood Benvolio inside and out. He was a man with a temper he hid because to him his family and friends were more important. He was a man who wanted Romeo to find happiness, who wanted to make the world see how great his friends were.

As he stood there on the stage, he began shifting into character. Even though he still wore just a pair of skinny bright pants and a nerdy shirt, Gavin was soon Benvolio, kind cousin to Romeo.

He was all to surprised when Mercutio stepped out into the scene, tempting Romeo with drugs and teasing him about love in fluent poetry and abstract tales. He was not ready to feel that first burst of adrenaline and the butterflies in his chest that made his voice want to turn weak. Mercutio had woven them all into a spell with his storytelling, yes, but Benvolio was already lost the moment he saw those beautiful blue eyes.

He stepped off the stage again as they played out scenes again where Benvolio-where Gavin was not needed. He made his way over to his bag on the chairs, feeling lightheaded and fluttery still, as if something more interesting had happened. He’d messed up his characterization of Benvolio, obviously, but otherwise they had stuck to the script. Ryan had performed as he always had and Gavin had sunk too deep into the character.

Gavin struggled the rest of the rehearsal, trying to sink into his character without giving into the urge to admire Ryan. Ryan was just Ryan. Ryan was a sweater-wearing, nerdy castmate who wouldn’t know what to do with a real weapon. Ryan would hate Gavin if he knew how many deaths he’d caused and how many more he still intended to cause.

Instead, Gavin faltered and struggled right up until the end. He managed to come across as believable but next to Ryan he still felt like a struggling novice. It was a relief to hear Mercutio’s last lines. “Help me into some house, Benvolio, Or I shall faint. A plague o' both your houses! They have made worms' meat of me: I have it, And soundly-”

Ryan finally stumbled over a line, but only because Gavin had stumbled first. He had known Ryan was going to lean against him, the overall larger man needing to seem like he was frail and dying as they made their way offstage. But it seemed like the brit’s strength had been overestimated and instead of a quick step offstage they had taken an even quicker dive into the back curtain.

There was a little laughter and a concerned call out to them both from Burnie, Lord Capulet, and his Lady wife Miles. Gavin felt embarrassed, especially at the particularly bird like noise that had escaped him as they had hit the ground.

Ryan had somehow ended up beneath him despite the fact he’d caused the fall by leaning into Gavin from the other side. Still, he was solid and warm beneath Gavin, arms curled protectively around Gavin. He smelt good, like some sort of spice, and he had hit the ground without a noise.

Honestly, Gavin’s first thought was of how good it would be to have Ryan around like that in a firefight. It was hard not to see the benefits of having a gorgeous wall of muscle around in a fight.

His second thought was of how warm Ryan was, body heat soaking thought their clothes and making Gavin want to stretch out like a cat in a sunbeam. The solid muscles beneath him could also have their uses in very relaxing situations.

And finally, his third thought was of how horribly this was going to go. Because Ryan’s eyes were locked on his and his arms were still firmly wrapped around Gavin, unwilling to let go for a few sweet moments.

Gavin forced himself to leave just after practice, slipping away when Ryan’s attention was on his fitting. The brit grabbed his bag and rushed out the door like a bat out of hell.

This was bad. He couldn’t afford to have a crush on some poor defenseless castmate. The fact that the man seemed to return his affections just made the problem worse. He had to stop this. He had to do whatever it took to stop himself from ruining Ryan’s life by going any further with him.

And even with the heaters turned on blast in his car, Gavin wanted nothing more than to go back to Ryan and just sink into the man’s arms again. He wanted that warmth to settle back into his bones again.

But he couldn’t.

It was a relief the next morning to get a summons from Geoff. It seemed their new rival crew were finally making a move.


	3. Chapter 3

There was something always hypnotizing about applying his tanner.

He had originally used a spray tan machine to darken his skin, giving him that cheery orange shade associated with douchebags. He’d chosen it back when he was a scared kid, hoping to fake being someone who could blend into the crime world. He was scrawny and pale and knew more about intermissions than interrogations. His first attempts had been messy and too fake, jewelry not even real gold and clothes stained on the edges from the tan.

Now he had bronzing creams and makeup pallets. He had primer and powder and setting spray, a few cheek and eye palettes hide or fake bruises, lipsticks and lipstains and cherry gloss. He had fitted designer suits and heavy gold chains and sunglasses ranging from the most 90’s oakleys to gold dita frames. His favourites were either the dita decade twos, or the cheap x-ray specs Ray had left behind.

But before he could worry about any of that, he had to work on his look. He never aimed to look naturally tan, he instead aimed for the slightly orange hue of people who visited a spray tan salon on a weekly basis. It took a long time to do, even on days like this when he only had to worry about his arms, neck and head. He had to highlight and contour, bringing out angles that didn’t naturally show on his face. Once he barely recognized the man in the mirror, he started on his hair.

The first step was to make it seem lighter, using a homemade powder to make his hair seem white, before a quick spritz of golden yellow root touch up spray to make it seem like platinum blonde. The gel he used to make it a pompadour served to keep the very temporary colors in place. His eyebrows were done with golden eyeshadow, gaudy and bold. 

He always wore real labels to the serious things, knowing that Geoff needed him to show off. His Ditas were the latest style, gold matching perfectly to his heavy earrings. His chains were all slightly different shades and thicknesses, one inlaid with diamonds. 

His actual clothes didn’t matter as much, as long as they were dark and european, finely tailored and softly padded so that he seemed like there were muscles hidden under the silks. Finally, the subtle lifts in his shoes would bring him up an inch or two, though he would still be far too small to intimidate in the traditional way.

This was Gavin’s favourite role to play, simply because he had it perfected. It was the one role he would repeat every week, the role of the golden prince. He was the vainest of the vain, a prideful peacock with a mean streak. It was unknown if he had ever murdered, but the criminal world as a whole feared him for his supposed connections. The Golden Prince had everyman’s number and could call favours from every criminal organization in the western world. He was blackmailer, a coward and while he’d be too easy to kill, it would also be impossible to survive the retaliation.

In reality, Gavin’s connections rarely expanded past Geoff’s crew. He didn’t need connections. There was always a gap in security, either electronically or physically. He simply figured out his target’s weak point and played with it until he got what he wanted.

But for the Golden Prince to work, he had to be in the limelight. People had to think they knew what they saw. A vain fake man couldn’t be confused with the thinner, paler man they would see later.

The others were just as dressed for battle, Geoff perfectly groomed and dressed in a fresh new tuxedo, Michael in leather and bruises, and Jeremy wearing that stupid cowboy hat. Geoff’s tattoos were still all too visible, and his mustache was too thick, but it was all part of his branding. He was the civilized criminal, like a godfather from an old movie.

It was just going to be a video conference, neither crew willing to allow the other to choose a neutral meeting ground. It was a good step towards peace at least. The new crew had finally stepped out of the shadows, calling themselves the Hunters. The name fit, especially since they seemed to roam like a pack of wolves. Jack Pattillo was a smart woman, perfectly balanced between pride and anger. She kept her dogs on a short leash, but would release them when necessary. They’d heard of her victories before, when she had worked alone and away from their territory, but now that she had a crew, she would undoubtedly start competing with them directly.

Gavin remembered Brutalmoose and Markiplier, the last ones to face against her. He hadn’t known the Canadian, but he had met Mark a few times. He wasn’t sure what they had done, but they had disappeared soon after meeting her, ghosted away by two mysterious women. All anyone found was the blood smears.

Then there was the Vagabond, who left no doubts about what he’d do to you when he caught you. His kills were put on display, though often enough they’d be separated out to put in different places.

Vagabond was the thing of nightmares.

With the Fake Achievements still reorganizing from Ray’s retirement, they were not in the position to deal with the new crew. They would win if a war began, especially if Ray agreed to help them, but it would be a long and drawn out battle.

And the Hunters weren’t the only new ones skulking around their territory.

Funhaus was no one's favourite. They were crude and loud, as subtle as a tank. They used dirty tactics, usually smoke bombs and demolition explosions to kill people without even entering their homes. No one wanted them in the city, which was now to the two crew’s benefit since they now had a good reason to combine forces and avoid a three way war.

Gavin knew they needed this alliance, but he was unsure if it would go as smoothly as Geoff expected. This was the underworld, and while there were some honor among thieves, if given the chance they would kill to take power.

Jeremy seemed to be the only one who believed that this would work, the short sniper unable to hide a small relieved smile as they set up the cameras.

The more experienced men all just shared a bemused look before taking their positions. Jeremy and Michael stood in the back, holding their guns and forming a solid wall of muscle. Geoff sat in a high backed chair, pouring himself a heavy glass of whiskey, drinking half before anyone could advise otherwise. Gavin perched on one of his armrests, already slipping into the old familiar role of the peacock at Geoff’s sleeve. If the other crew thought he was Geoff’s kept boy after this he’d consider it a victory.

There was a silence in the room, and Gavin couldn’t help but reach over to grab the whiskey as well. He took a quick sip, but mistimed it, the call coming through while the glass was still in his hands.

He’d have to work with it. He simply held the heavy glass in his hands, nursing it like he hadn’t wanted to quit drinking just because they had a meeting. It was rude, but it was easier on the crew’s reputation then to see him awkwardly leaning down to return the cup to the table.

Their own video feed appeared in a little corner of the screen, the low angle making them seem much larger and more vibrant than they were. Gavin wishes he could put his hand down on his gun, just to feel safe, but it would be hard to do without it being obvious. It was hard to work around holding the glass.

“Good evening, Ramsey.” A man’s voice came from the computer, startlingly familiar. Gavin’s mind went into overdrive, trying to place where he had heard it before.

The others did not handle things so well. “Hello.” Geoff said, face somewhere between a pout and a sneer. Honestly, he wasn’t going to take this well, having a male voice answer and no video.

“I’m sorry about the lack of video on our end.” The other man said softly, “We’re already working on restoring it. You should have visual soon.”

“You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t want to deal with you guys without visual.” Geoff snarled, reaching over to snatch the whiskey back from his tense grifter. He put the empty glass down hard.

“That is fine. My primary partner is the one repairing the camera.” The voice was definitely American, with the slow drawl of someone born in a southern state. It was smooth and finely crafted, obviously trained in speech or theatre.

“Partner?” Geoff scoffed. “I highly doubt your ‘Partners’. We know how your outfit works. You’re not the boss.”

“Excuse me?” The other voice grew sharper, but there was something else on Gavin’s mind. Something about that voice sounded familiar.

His leader was obviously getting ready for a tirade, whiskey making his face go red a little too soon. Honestly he had to try and calm Geoff down before he went too far. Gavin put a hand on his shoulder. “Sir.”

“No. Everyone knows you’re tough shit but no one could ever see you and think you were the boss. I mean, just look at you.” Geoff gave the screen the bitchiest face he could.

Gavin realized it a minute too late. “Geoff-”

The screen finally blinked on, showing exactly who Gavin feared it would be. There was a tense silence, Jeremy letting out a soft strangled noise Gavin prayed wouldn’t get caught by their microphone. He tried to hide his own reactions, but his hand was curled around his gun as if the crew on the other side of the screen would appear in the room.

There were two women in the background, both pretty but dressed too sharply. Their suits were meant to hide some of their weapons no doubt, but the taller redhead had a shotgun on her back while the smaller one had a chest holster to carry two beautiful white pistols.

The main attraction was the person in the center of the screen.

Jack was just as everyone had always described, with tangled red hair and naturally darker skin. Her shirt was the ugliest thing Gavin had ever seen, covered in macaws and ferns, but it was perfectly tailored to her muscular but curvy frame. She didn’t wear makeup or jewelry, but her eyes were sharp and bright enough to be mistaken for diamonds.

The vagabond stepped out from behind the other side of the camera, moving like a shadow despite his impressive bulk. He was wearing a full skull mask and a leather jacket, almost like he had just stepped out of a teen slasher film. Gavin hated to look at him, thoroughly creeped out despite himself.

“It seems there has been a misunderstanding.” The deep voice continued, and now Gavin had confirmation that they had been talking to Jack Pattillo this whole time. “I’m afraid we cannot do business together. It seems rumours that you were a gentleman were simply rumours.”

The Vagabond simply hummed, stretching out his fingers.

“I’m sure we will see more of each other soon.” The woman was clearly seething, but Geoff seemed frozen in place, far too startled to realize what he had just done.

“Hold on.” Gavin butted in, knowing that if things continued on as they were they would end up burying at least one friend. “Wait a moment Miss Pattillo.” He nudged Geoff, glad when the gent somehow knew to surrender his seat. Geoff was the leader, yes, but right now he had to let Gavin salvage things, pride be damned. Gavin was scared to death. “I’m sorry for the confusion.”

“What are you lot playing at.” She frowned, arms crossing. She seemed irritated, bitch face set to rival Geoff’s. Her crewmates seemed just as riled up.

“We’re just used to playing things a certain way.” He hesitated, then pulled off his shades, glad he’d been careful in his makeup today. He’d look fake yes, but his coloring would pass as a real spray tan. He smiled a little coldly, suddenly Cassius the conspirator, suddenly Puck the trickster, suddenly Iago ready to spin lies and be a man who would hide his true power. He was going to have to extend an olive branch to them all, and since the Fakes had no such branch to offer he was going to have to make one up as he went. “I’m sorry I assumed you would be the same as me.” His shades sat on the table, leaving his bare face in clear view. With luck, they’d belive the makeup. With less luck, perhaps they would realize his face was still well hidden but would not be able to tell how his face truly looked. “As brutish as they can be, having the roughest man stand in the front can help you focus on the more important things.”

“That's fucking bullshit.” Her face only grew more pinched. “We all know what Ramsey is capable of. There's no way he’d let some glittery punk order him around.”

“You know what he’s capable of.” Gavin nodded, “But do you know what I’m capable of?”

The vagabond put his hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off, shooting him a dark look before letting off a quick huff. “Fine. Start talking.”

“Well.” Iago and Cassius faded away to make room for Lady Macbeth and Richard the third. His plots were not good for permanence, but for now they were all he could draw from. “I think what matters the most is keeping our city.”

Gavin had to keep talking, somehow keeping in character until the call was over and the cameras were off.

“Did she believe you?” Geoff asked softly, subdued now that danger was gone.

“No.” Gavin had seen the doubts stay in her eyes, and she had glanced to Geoff more than once. She knew he had just stepped in to dissolve the situation, and the peace he had been able to broker was weak. He suspected the only reason Jack had gone along with any of it was just to watch the Fakes sweat as they sunk deeper into their lies.

But if she wanted a show he would give her a show.

He just never wanted to meet the Vagabond in person.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all apologies for the wait. Its been a crazy few weeks at work.
> 
> I'm refusing to let this story go on hiatus though and since I actually have a personal cheerleader for this I'm gunna see it through to the end. It just might not update as fast as my previous works.

Gavin didn't relax that night.

It was hard to even pretend to be calm, though honestly he wasn't sure if it was just nerves making him so jittery. Yes this was a dangerous game to play. Yes the Vagabond was terrifying. Yes they could end up with an unacceptable casualty level if things went wrong (or even worse they could end up with Funhaus trying to sneak in and take advantage of the war to steal their turf).

But their little gang alliance had now turned into his own personal stage. He now had changed from being in Geoff’s supportive cast to being the lead role.

And what a role it would have to be. He had to play the old familiar Golden Prince of the Fakes, while also playing a shadow King. He had to be the court jester and the strong ruler, a merciless but vain and intelligent man.

But what would be the right balance between being a threat to Jack and being a friend to Jack? He couldn't roll over, he couldn't leave them vulnerable to attack by the Hunters. And he had to be ready to meet the most deadly audience he had ever faced.

He stayed home most of the next day, too distracted by his own plans to trust himself with a mask. It was only as the sun set that he forced himself to focus on the present, pulling on some skinny jeans and a loose shirt. He’d spent far too long in the shower, getting rid of any hint of bronzer or dye. Sometimes it was depressing to strip the glamour away, revealing the pale flesh and dull hair beneath. Tonight it was just a relief.

Tonight he was Gavin. Gavin the gay actor who was tripping over himself because of some 30-something sweater wearing civilian. The golden prince, now self-proclaimed criminal mastermind and master manipulator was fawning over a man who probably worked in IT or as a event organizer at an old folks home.

He felt ridiculous, embarrassed how much mental energy he’d put into this little crush. Ryan was hot yeah, but he wasn’t nearly as dangerous or as unobtainable as Gavin’s usual flings.

Gavin knew that he was being brash, that he was going into practice that day with far too much confidence. He was risking his role in this play, a role he needed to keep his mind off the clusterfuck Geoff had created.

Blaine was the first to greet Gavin, the buff man looking a little restless. “Hey man, have you heard about Barb?”

“No.” He glanced around for their Juliet. The canadian’s blonde hair was nowhere to be seen. “Where is she?”

“She won a trip for four to Fiji.” Blaine said, smile a little bitter though he still seemed happy for his friend. “She even got her boss to let her go. She should be in the airport by now.”

“Now?” Gavin frowned, wondering if his days as Benvolio were already over. “How long is she gone?”

“Too long.” Blaine shrugged with a soft laugh. “Apparently your friend Ryan had connections. She’s already been replaced.”

“What happened to her understudy?” Gavin frowned, “Bethany or whatever.”

“She went with her. I almost did too.”

Ah, so that was why Blaine was so tense. Poor guy had missed out on a big trip. Gavin had the means to go to Fiji whenever he wanted, but he had never bothered. Traveling meant being unavailable to his crew. He couldn’t do that to them.

“Gavin.” Ryan’s voice called over the crowds, the man’s stupid face easy to spot as he grinned at the brit. He was dressed in a brown cableknit sweater he had to have stolen from a World War 2 veteran and oversized jeans that had to be held up by a belt far too high up, with how unflatteringly high the pockets were sitting. Maybe Ryan had gotten his full wardrobe by hitting the thrift shop. Maybe he’d smell like mothballs and sweat if Gavin got closer. Maybe he’d be wearing those walmart-reject sneakers and Gavin could focus on those thinning patches of hair near his scalp

But any trace of his earlier confidence had already been lost as soon as he spotted those bright playful eyes from across the room.

“Bloody hell.” He hissed, unable to stop his cheeks from flushing.

“Go get your man.” Blaine said teasingly, nodding over at Ryan. “He’s been waiting for you. You’re gross.”

“Gross?”

“Just ask him out already.” The taller man advised. “Tell me if he takes you antiquing or something. You’ll have two dogs and an apartment by the end of the show.”

It took Gavin a moment to get past the knee jerk assumption that Blaine was commenting on their sexuality. Instead it was something worse. Blaine was commenting on their destiny as a boring couple, settling down and going shopping together to get some refinished whitewashed dresser to keep their collection of sweaters and dad jeans in. Gavin wondered if they’d have those smaller drawers on the top, perfect for storing handguns and spare clips. Would Ryan be the clumsy type to knock over Gavin’s expensive makeup. Would he be any good at stitching up Michael at 2 am. He could picture Ryan knowing embroidery.

For fucks sake what was he doing around a civilian? Why was he letting the man get to him.

Belatedly Gavin realized his feet had already started to betray him, leading him straight over to the older man. There was a woman at Ryan’s side, the kind of girl Gavin should be into. She was his own age, wearing a geeky shirt and a skirt lined with little pokeballs. Her hair had to be freshly dyed, the pink too bright against her dark hair and coffee au lait skin. Her eyes were big and playful, and her smile just as charming as Ryan’s.

Or maybe not as charming. She was beautiful and bright and curvy. Her clothes actually suited her. She didn’t remind him of a school librarian.

His eyes still went back to Ryan, smiling back at them both with the sort of shy crooked smile he trained himself to stop using by the time he was 18.

“Hey Ryan.”

He wasn’t sure if he hated Ryan for bringing this dorky side out in him, or if he hated himself more for still having it in him to feel butterflies in his stomach. This man was not what he needed, what he wanted, or what he could have. Why the hell did it mean so much to him to have the other shift closer to Gavin as soon as he approached.

“Gavin, this is my coworker Mica. She’s our new Juliet.” The older man said, motioning to the woman with a lazy hand. “Mica, this is my better half. My Benvolio.”

She grinned, looking far too amused by the introduction. Gavin wondered if she could already tell he was tripping over Ryan like an overeager puppy.

“Its nice to meet you.” Her beautiful eyes scanned him over twice, like a predator. Gavin hoped she would flirt with him, hoped she could pull his attention away from the massive dork at her side. He was a boffin, so she had to be similar, but she was fit at least. Ryan was fit too.

“You too.” He stumbled over the words, “Have you met the others?”

“Yeah. They all seem pretty nice.” Her eyes scanned the crowds again. “This should be a good job.”

“You’re looking a little pale today Gavin.” Ryan’s eyes softened slightly, “You alright?”

“Rough night.” He shrugged, “My new boyfriend wanted to check out a local pub.”

And fuck.

What was that.

“Boyfriend?” Ryan frowned, face shuttering a little. It was like seeing a lightswitch go out, the bright warmth of the man’s expression fizzling out to nothing.

Gavin had to roll with it. Gavin now had a pretend boyfriend. A pretend boyfriend that could maybe help him get over the strong shoulders perfectly framed by the marled brown wool. Gavin Free had a boyfriend.

Why the hell had he just given himself a boyfriend? Why the hell did he need one? Why was he literally shooting himself in the foot like this. A boyfriend would go to his shows. A boyfriend would have to support him and actually physically appear in front of the others. Sure, he could claim it was someone who lived away, or someone who worked night shifts or even just break up with the imaginary man after a few days.

Instead, his mouth kept moving. “Yeah. You’ll meet him opening night.”

Gavin wanted a shot of whiskey. Or his gun. He’d kill a man just to be able to hold his gun at that moment as he watched Ryan’s easy smile fall back into place. “That's great. What is his name?”

“Michael.” Gavin’s stomach churned and he wondered if he’d ever live it down once he’d asked the redhead to play along. The fighter would never let this go. He was either in for some loudmouthed raging or endless torments. And the moment Geoff caught wind of this it would end up being a crew wide thing. There was no way Geoff and Jeremy would miss out on Michael the doting boyfriend and Gavin the fucking idiot who needed Michael to shield him from his crush on a man in the grossest clothes Gavin had ever seen.

This was going to be the end of the golden prince of the Fakes. Forget the Hunters. Forget Jack Pattillo or the Vagabond. Ryan the fricken IT librarian who shopped at the Salvation Army was going to get Gavin to die from embarrassment.

“That’s great.” Mica chirped, her smile only turning sharper like she could smell blood in the water. Gavin wondered if she could tell how badly he was lying in that moment.

He jumped as his phone rang, making the other two flinch as he reached for his phone. His long fingers were too shaky as he pulled it from his pocket, but the real kicker was the name on the display.

“Micoo….” Gavin crooned as soon as he answered, wondering if his friend had some sort of sixth sense or if there was some bored benevolent god on his side. “My boi….”

“Gavin. You gotta get back here.” Michael said, voice tense. It was loud on his end of the call, wind buffering at the audio like he was on his bike. “Funhaus have made a move.”

“Oh…. Alright.” Gavin felt sick, knowing that something serious had to have happened in order for Michael to sound like that. “Who?”

“It doesn’t matter who.” Michael growled, meaning that it did matter who had been targeted and that it wasn’t good news.

Dread settled over Gavin, making his bones suddenly feel too sharp under his skin. For a moment he let it drag him down, knowing that someone he cared about had to be hurt.

But this wasn’t the place.

He slid his favourite mask into place, the golden prince giving Ryan a smile. “Sorry. I forgot something important. Can you cover for me?”

“Sure.” Ryan said after a pause, sounding as far away from sure as possible. “Was that your boyfriend?”

“Yeah.” Gavin gave a little proud smile. “Michael, my boi.”

It was easy to ignore Ryan’s presence as the golden prince. It was easy to forget everything else as he cut back through the crowds and straight to the door.

Michael was waiting for him by the door on his bike, an obvious patch of blood on his shirt and his sleeve cut on the shoulder. His face was grim enough Gavin didn’t even bother to mention that his own car was parked just a few spots down. Instead he climbed onto the back of the bike and took the offered helmet, barely strapping it into place before they were heading down the road straight for the central hospital.

Geoff met them by the entrance, looking so angry and yet dead eyed that Gavin almost wanted to step back. Instead he found himself being pulled into a hug of all things, Geoff’s arms a little too tight.

“They targeted Griffon.” He whispered, voice cracking like a dying phone connection. “They fucking managed to find and target Griffon. They almost killed her.”

Gavin swallowed hard, then hugged back, not sure of what to say to your best friend and boss when his ex-wife nearly got killed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support guys. It was great getting so many reviews.
> 
> Here's the next chapter

It seemed like money could fix anything, including the inevitable stench of cleaners in a hospital room.

Griffon had been put in one of the best rooms in the hospital, good enough to somehow have avoided the usual smells of bleach and sanitizer in lieu of the scent of peaches and sea salt. The blonde was laying in a mountain of pillows, skin a mess of bruises and tatts. She looked sharper than Gavin remembered, the last few years sanding the edges of her body and making her seem skeletal. Honestly, he wished he knew what had happened three years ago to make her leave.

Geoff still loved her. It was obvious in the way he stood by the door, face withdrawn and blank like his soul had been sucked away the moment he’d seen her. It didn’t matter that the two of them hadn’t spoken in years. The older man would blame himself for the marks on her skin and the holes in her stomach.

“Funhaus?” Jeremy asked. “They did this?” Jeremy hadn’t been around when Griffon had left, but you could tell he was being careful. Anyone could tell the woman was Geoff’s weak spot. “They’ve been busy.”

“What do you mean?” Gavin asked, glad for an excuse to look away from Griffon’s body. It honestly felt like he was looking at a body, the induced coma making her too still.

“They hit three banks tonight.” He said matter of fact, glancing nervously towards Geoff’s dark expression before adding. “Why would they do a hit on the same night as three heists?”

“Cause they’re sloppy.” Geoff snarled. “And we made them nervous. They must have heard about our alliance with the Hunters.”

“Geoff…” Michael shifted his stance, eyes darting to the two weaker members of their crew. Gavin knew instantly what the concern was but Lil J just frowned, looking a little offended. “We should be smart for the next while. Keep each other safe.”

Geoff nodded, though his eyes had already gone back to Griffon. He didn't seem ready to handle things.

It might have been a good thing Gavin was already primed to act as leader in front of the Hunters.

Ryan texted him that night, just after practice would end. The sound from his phone had made him jump, and he took a moment to check which line the call had originally been sent to. He had a few fake numbers he gave out, each bouncing calls ahead a few times for added security before reaching his real number. It was unsurprisingly sent to his Theatre Gavin number, the man having gotten the number from a cast mate.

Matt from backstage says we can come in early tomorrow if you wanna practice. We were supposed to go over our scenes again today.

It was nice to suddenly be just plain old theatre nerd Gavin again, his mask sliding into place with a liquid smoothness. He remembered when Geoff had been like that, when a text from Griffon could turn him into a child. He could remember when Geoff would smile, open and unguarded, when he’d answer the phone with a misty voice and have that look in his eyes reserved for Griffon.

When Ray got like that around Tina, he’d retired. Gavin supposed it made sense, the man protecting the woman he loved.

Gavin the theatre nerd might do that. The real Gavin wouldn’t. He couldn’t. His life was his job. He’d never be able to pack away his guns and his masks.

Texting him when Gavin supposedly already had a boyfriend was harmless though. Ryan was probably already giving up, knowing things couldn’t go any further.

I’ll be there. He kept things short and simple, not trusting himself with any emoticons. After a second he added. Michael can come to read Kerry’s lines.

Sure. Ryan’s response was immediate, and Gavin wondered if it had been easy for Ryan to type or if it had shot out like a knee jerk response. The blonde had to admit, he almost wanted it to have been uncomfortable for the older man. It was wrong to want Ryan to want him, but Gavin had never been good at being kind. I’ll bring a friend as well.

A friend? Was he implying he knew Michael was just a friend or was Gavin reading too much into his phrasing. And what kind of friends did Ryan keep. Would it be another Mica, another beautiful charming woman with a smile sharp as glass, or would it be a boring 30-something who wore sweaters and baggy jeans. What was the kind of person Ryan would want to be around? Was Gavin even his type?

Ryan’s friend turned out to be a beautiful redhead, tall and intimidating. She was settled on the edge of the stage, grinning a little too sharply as the two men entered. She was wearing a grey baseball t shirt and faded jeans, loose fabric making the width of her shoulders stand out.

“Gavin.” Ryan waved them closer, dressed yet again in cable knits and terrible jeans. Michael probably would have made a little comment if he wasn’t too preoccupied with the woman.

“Hey Ryan. This is Michael. My boyfriend.”

Gavin probably should have warned Michael he was going to say that, but Michael was far too used to Gavin’s bullshit anyways. The bruiser just threw an arm around Gavin, pulling him in close. “Nice to meet you Ryan.”

“This is Lindsay.” Ryan stepped forward, motioning towards the redhead with a lazy hand.

“I’m his better half.” She purred, taking the hand and using it to help herself up. She was too much like Mica, all beauty and danger and Gavin should have felt threatened or intimidated by it all. He probably should have felt like this was just another step in the right direction, with Ryan now having a good reason not to flirt with Gavin.

Instead, he just felt challenged.

“Lets get started.” He began to pull away from Michael, wanting to get up on the stage and close to Ryan again. Instead Michael tightened his grip, turning to Gavin for a quick possessive kiss.

“I don’t trust that woman.” Michael whispered against Gavin’s lips. “Be careful.”

Gavin hid his snort into a giggle, hoping it would just sound giddy or romantic to the people on the stage, instead of just utterly amused. “Always,” he crooned back, as he pulled away. He reached up to smooth out one of Michael’s curls, giving him a loving smile.

Glancing at Ryan made the whole exchange worth it. The dad jean wearing thespian’s face had gone dark and almost dangerous. It was a face that would have been better suited to a killer, not a man who could recite Hamlet’s Soliloquy by heart. Still, for a moment it was enough to make Gavin’s cheeks flush.

“Really?” Michael muttered. “You like Dad Jeans?”

Gavin pinched him before letting go, acting like the color on his cheeks had more to do with the ‘lover’ behind him rather than the man wearing those god awful shoes.

They made the practice work as best they could. It grew easier as Gavin slid back into the role of Benvolio. His Benvolio was still far too in love with Mercutio, but Gavin never made a move on Ryan. Michael and Lindsay were a good distraction, constantly shooting each other loaded looks and strange glares.

“What do you do for a living Lindsay?” Michael asked in the middle of Mercutio’s speech about quarrels.

“Landscaping.” She grinned back. “You know, getting rid of the old, putting better, beautiful things in place.”

“Ah. I’m demolition. Similar but with a lot more power.” Michael was still far too guarded and tense. Gavin wondered if it was just misdirected sexual tension. Lindsay was his best friend’s type after all.

Lindsay and Michael did go through the lines and motions with them, though the only moment that they did with any relish was when they fought, wooden practice swords clacking together a little too strongly. Lindsay would have made a good bruiser in another life, her reflexes a bit too fast and her body meant to cause some damage.

It all came to a head as Michael ‘stabbed’ Mercutio. Gavin had practiced for this moment, ready to support Ryan as he dragged him off stage. He glanced back unsurprised to see Michael and Lindsay glaring at each other, Lindsay not starting Romeo’s speech.

“Gavin.” Ryan murmured against the shell of his ear, taking advantage of their position. The brit was suddenly all too aware of how warm the larger man was as he leaned into him. Ryan smelt like cologne, but it was only light and surprisingly well chosen. It almost had a smoky undertone to it like gunpowder, but Gavin figured that was just the grifter wishing for a more dangerous prospect.

Not that Ryan was a prospect. Ryan had a girlfriend. Michael was Gavin’s “boyfriend”. This was just a game and nothing serious.

“I know Michael isn’t your boyfriend.” Ryan’s lips skimmed over the top curve of his ear, then he went down over it again with his teeth in a move that made Gavin’s knees weak. His clothes felt too warm and too tight suddenly, his shirt contracting until his lungs were forced to expel with a noise that was not a gasp. He felt his heart racing, blood rushing down the make the pressure of his jeans more of a tease than a discomfort. “Just as Lindsay isn’t my girlfriend.” A warm hand skimmed down Gavin’s side, moving closer to the front as it ran down his thigh.

Gavin wasn’t sure how he’d step back out on the stage again without Michael and Lindsay immediately noticing the tent in his pants.

“Fuck….” He whispered, almost reaching out to grab Ryan before he could get away.

“The show must go on Gavin.” The older man avoided the touch, that charming smile back in place. He looked like a model again, like a dad from a sears catalog, and it was so unfair how much Gavin wanted to ravish him when he was looking so benign.

The sound of the double doors in the auditorium squeaking open was Gavin’s saviour. Miles’s voice rang out through the empty hall, a little amused but authoritative. “Hey. Get off the stage. This is our practice time.”

From the seating area, all Miles could see was Michael and Lindsay, the two still glaring at each other like long lost rivals. Neither were supposed to be there.

“I’ll save our friends.” Ryan chuckled, looking more amused than smug. “Go freshen yourself up a bit. I think we should talk after practice.”

Gavin nodded, not sure if he was more annoyed with the man, or thankful he at least let Gavin slink away unseen. “Talk or talk?” He couldn’t help but ask, wanting to get an upper hand again.

“Depends on if our ‘friends’ end up killing each other or not.” Ryan shot Gavin an unreadable look before heading back onstage to placate their Lady Capulet as he interrogated the two strangers.

Rubbing one out in a backstage dressing room was unfortunately not the most awkward orgasm Gavin had ever had, but it became a close second when he stepped outside afterwards to see Michael waiting for him by the door.

“Are you sure these people are who you think they are?” The redhead frowned, arms crossed as he gave Gavin a seriously unimpressed look. “I don’t like this Gavin.”

“Have you seen Ryan?” Gavin shook his head, glad that Michael wasn’t going to mention what Gavin had just been doing in the little room with thin walls. “He’s the most unthreatening person I’ve ever seen. Have you seen what he wears?”

Michael shook his head again, “I don’t like this, man. Especially not with what's going on. If someone is targeting the crew, you’d probably be one of the first ones to get hit. Maybe you should take a step back from theatre now.”

“Its almost opening night.” Gavin shook his head, heading back towards the stage. “And we’ve already had problems with people quitting. I can’t.”

“Yes you can.” The bigger man shook his head, grabbing Gavin by the shoulder and shoving him back into the way, forcing him to face him. “This isn’t a game, Gav. And you need to listen to me. Something isn’t right here.”

Gavin shook him off, “No. I’m not stepping back from the theatre just because you can’t tell the difference between finding a woman attractive and finding her scary.”

“And you can’t believe anyone else could do what you do? You can’t imagine another grifter or something being able to pull on the disguise of being a normal person? Especially someone who has a gift for acting?” Michael snarled, getting honestly pissed as he faced Gavin down. “Think about it Gavin. A man could hide an awful lot of weapons in baggy jeans.”

Gavin had almost believed Michael until the last line, a snort being tugged out of him. “You think Ryan has weapons hidden in his jeans?”

“Why the hell not?” The glare Gavin got let him know how stupid Michael though he was being.

“He wears them with a belt, hauled up to his chin.” Gavin laughed. “The only weapon he could be hiding in there is his nob.”

“Gavin-”

“No. I’ve got to get to practice.” Gavin finally pulled away completely. “Stay and watch if you want, or try and put a move on Lindsay. Shes a fucking florist for christsake.”

“And I’m a construction worker.” Michael said, voice cold. He didn’t stop Gavin from going back to the auditorium and the stage, only following with a heavy sigh as he saw Gavin heading straight for Ryan.

Gavin had better things to worry about than Michael’s paranoia. Like whether or not Ryan was going to make a move, and whether Gavin would go along with it. 

Ryan was quieter as the room filled with more and more people, and by the time practice started in earnest Ryan had gone back to being the charming but mild thespian Gavin was used to. The man obviously wasn’t the type to make a move in public, which was great, except for how little he seemed interested in Gavin as the night went on. That combined with the way Michael kept glancing at his phone made it easy to decide to just give Ryan a teasing look and slip out of the practice without a word.

He’d have time to hit on the man later, if he chose to. For now he was going to focus on keeping Michael from raising a fuss. If the bruiser talked to Geoff about Gavin’s new friends, there was a chance Geoff would decide to ban theatre until the problems with Funhaus were resolved. 

As they arrived back at base Jeremy came out of his room holding a folder. He looked a little startled. “I just ran the information you told me and theres only one woman who fits your description.” He pulled out a surprisingly large file. “Ruby. One of the Hunters.”

“Wait what?” Gavin frowned, glancing at Michael. “Did you get Jeremy to do a check on Lindsay?”

“Yeah.” Michael took the dossier, scanning over it. “Ruby, known associates Jack Pattillo, Dollface, Goddess, and The Vagabond.”

“So what, Ryan is the Vagabond?”

They were all quiet for a moment, before Michael burst into laughter. He passed Jeremy the folder back and threw an arm around Gavin. “Fuck sorry Gavin. Guess I was wrong. Could you imagine Ryan being the Vagabond?”

Gavin laughed, all too glad it wasn’t so. The Vagabond was pure danger. Ryan was not.


	6. Chapter 6

Michael followed him to the next practice, but it was more of a formality than a security choice. Especially since Geoff had now ordered them all to stay armed at all times. Gavin wore a hoody that day, a gun pocket hidden in the hood. It could only hold a little handgun, anything heavier too obvious in how it would weigh down the soft fabric. Gavin wanted his golden gun, but by now he was used to that disappointment.

“So you like Dad Jeans huh?” Michael asked as he drove Gavin to practice. “Is it serious or do you just need to see him naked?”

“The second one.” Gavin managed a laugh. “I dunno why. He's hardly my type.”

“You've never really had a type though.” Michael pointed out. “I have no idea what you see in those jeans though.”

“I might burn them all before I leave his house.” Gavin pointed out. “His friends dress fine, I don't know why they let him wear what he wears.”

“So you’re going to his house, huh?” Michael did a rather impressive thing with his eyebrows, before snorting.

“I can’t see him taking someone to a hotel.” Gavin flushed, trying to bullshit a reason why he had automatically mentioned leaving Ryan’s home.

“Sure.” Michael obviously didn’t believe him but he dropped it. The drive was suddenly a little tense, both knowing Gavin was making a mistake continuing to interact with such a mild mannered civilian. He was probably the worst person to get a crush on, since he could never survive an encounter with Gavin’s real world. Ryan would be dead the moment he showed up on the Vagabond’s radar.

Practice was surprisingly empty, though Kerry and Mica were already on stage, running through their final scene.

“Gavin?” Burnie smiled as the two stepped in, sitting near the back. He was dressed in his lordly robes, but his hand was covered in colorful bandages and his scruff was uneven. He certainly looked the part of someone’s dad, but it was always strange to see the usually calm supportive man fly off the handle when Juliet disagreed with marrying Paris. “What are you doing here?”

“Why wouldn’t I be here?” Gavin shrugged. “Its practice.”

“Today’s a Mica practice though.” He nodded towards their new Juliet. “We’re giving her extra time to prepare since she started so late.”

The girl really needed it. She was undoubtedly skilled, but her performances were still a little rough since she had entered in so late. Kerry was trying to help, but he’d also prepared his scenes for Barbara’s version of Juliet and some of his performances had begun to tarnish from it. Barbara had been a softer Juliet, all ethereal and whimsical. Her Juliet seemed to be oblivious to the true horrors of the murders and death around her, and seemed to die in the end purely out of love.

Mica’s Juliet seemed more raw. She understood everything that was happening around her, but she didn’t care. She had chosen her path and she would chose Romeo over the rest of the world. Honestly, as immature as Juliet was, Gavin prefered Mica’s version. At least with her Juliet you could see her making her choices, as bad as they were. At least you could empathize with her more than just pity her.

Not that he could truly empathize. He would never chose love over his family, over his crew.

“I forgot about it completely.” Ryan’s voice came from closer to the front. He was lounging out a few rows down, feet propped up on the top on the next seat. It was entirely unfair how easily Ryan could go from looking like a slob to looking like sex. He wasn’t even wearing a sweater this time, just a black t-shirt that was far too small for his wide shoulders.

“Hell.” Gavin whispered like a prayer, hand grabbing onto Michael’s sleeve since he didn’t trust his knees to keep him up. He almost felt like he should be praying, dropping to his knees and thanking whatever god had designed the curve of Ryan’s calves, obvious though the dark denim.

“Sorry.” Ryan stood up, acting like he hadn’t noticed Gavin’s distress as he swung his legs to the floor and turned towards them. Gavin almost wished he was turned the other way, since he had seen a glimpse of a tightly wrapped firm ass. The shirt was too tight and too black to be anything but new, and his arms were exposed to be an unfairly thick and solid. They weren’t the most impressive arms he’d ever seen, but combined with that smug smile and big eyes Gavin felt suddenly unmatched. “It completely slipped my mind that practice had been changed. I was supposed to tell you too.”

“Well that sucks.” Michael spoke up. “Come on Gavin, let's head off then. If we hurry we can catch a movie.” A casual arm went around Gavin, but even as Michael looked and sounded non-threatening, the little squeeze he added in to his grip on Gavin’s shoulder was possessive.

And Gavin wondered at Michael’s game for a moment, why his boy would try to take him away from this gorgeous thing, until he noticed how Ryan frowned. Underneath the tight cotton, it was still his castmate Ryan, who had confused the word barista for barrister. This man may had looked like he belonged on a motorcycle at that moment, but two days ago he’d looked like a sears catalogue.

Gavin gave him a predatory grin, glad Michael had his back and gave him a moment to regain his bearings. This was still his game, Gavin was there to finally seduce Ryan and get everything out of his system. They’d fuck, he’d keep things fun and impersonal, and then anything further would be clearly just friends with benefits. And Ryan’s ass looked like a great benefit to anyone who beheld it.

“If you want to practice I have my own apartment.” The older man offered, “I’m sure we could go over some lines there.”

“Sounds good.” Gavin grinned. “I’m sure there's a few bumps we still have to go over.”

Ryan’s smile was a little too excited, a little too hopeful, but Gavin couldn’t get himself to hate how obvious it was Ryan wanted more than just a one night stand. Deep down it almost made Gavin a little happy to think that maybe, maybe in another life, maybe in another circumstance, they could have been more than friends.

“You sure Gav?” Michael’s hand tapped the gun as he pulled away. “You don’t wanna go watch something with me and Geoff?”

“I’m good.” He nodded. “I’ll find my own way back.”

“Good luck with your lines then.” Michael nodded. “Text me when you’re done. I might be able to grab you.”

“Thanks.” Gavin smiled at him briefly, trying not to glance back at Ryan too soon. He had to play it cool, try to keep everything to his own terms.

Ryan’s voice came in cooly near his ear. “I’m just parked around the corner.” The effect was ruined by a sudden dramatic outburst from the stage, and by the lingering smell of popcorn in the air. Or at least that was what Gavin told himself.

Ryan it seemed had a bright green mustang parked around the corner, the inside not quite neat enough for it to be new. Gavin spotted an eyeliner on the floor and wondered which of Ryan’s awesome female friends actually owned the car. Ryan had actually borrowed the car to impress Gavin.

It was flattering, thinking that someone could have gone so far for him. But then again, it was only for one of his masks. Ryan wanted to impress Gavin the young actor, probably fresh out of university and not as experienced in dating with more than a student’s budget to work with.

Gavin had owned a mustang convertible years ago. He’d sold it once he could afford better. But the idea of it all was sweet. Ryan was trying to put the moves on Gavin like a high schooler.

“I just live over here.” Ryan pulled into a private garage in a surprisingly nice building. He didn’t hesitate or fumble while leading Gavin up, so at least there was a chance it was actually his real home.

It really did seem like a home on the inside of his small condo. There were a few little things around, like a dogeared book and the lingering smell of food from Ryan’s supper. There was a crookedly hung painting in the entryway, as if it was often bumped into, and the paint was scuffed on the wall from someone clumsily carrying in furniture.

“So you wanted to go over lines?” Gavin gave Ryan a smug smile, certain now that he wouldn’t get to even recite a whole line of Benvolio before things got a little more interesting.

The smile he received in response was not the smile of a 30-something librarian or even a master actor assuming the role of a cool guy to get into someone's pants. Ryan seemed to be a predator beneath the softer mask he put on to interact with the outside world. He seemed to have the spark someone would need to survive in Gavin’s world, but probably not the heart to do whatever it took to succeed.

“I was actually hoping to go over quite a few lines actually.” He moved closer, fingers sliding along Gavin's hips to hook on the bottom of his shirt. “I think it's obvious by now that there's quite a few of them between us, that they're ones we shouldn't cross, but why shouldn’t we?” Ryan’s face softened slightly as he met Gavin’s eyes. “I think you’re worth it.” His voice was sombre but there was hope in those big eyes. “And what's life without a little danger?”

Gavin couldn’t hide his amusement at Ryan considering sleeping with a castmate dangerous enough to comment on it. The older man was too serious, looking like he was worried the world would step in and punish them for just a little fun. “It's strange of you to be so serious when you’re also luring me here with a horrible pun pick up line.”

A moment later they were laughing, though it didn’t feel like laughter so much as relief and Gavin wasn’t sure why. Warm hands landed on his skin and Ryan leaned into him, though neither seemed to need the extra support. Instead Ryan took advantage of the position to finally pull Gavin in for a real kiss.

It was all desperate hands and trying to suck in quick gasps of air, both too overwhelmed to try and figure out the logistics of making out. Both men seemed to plan to slip their thigh in between the other’s legs at the same time, resulting in a collision of knees and a few relaxed chuckles. Even as they slid apart for Ryan to lead the way to the bedroom, Gavin felt warm and comfortable. It all felt natural and relaxed, even as they both pawed at each other like they were in heat. They laughed as they tried to coordinate the shedding of clothes, and again when Ryan smacked his hand hard against the dark bedroom walls, unsuccessful in his search for the lightswitch. They had enough light from the hallway to be able to make their way to the bed.

Despite how relaxed and amused they both were, the first time was on just the right side of rough. They didn’t seem to have any way to go slower or softer, and Ryan seemed intent on marking Gavin’s skin wherever he could. None of it would be visible when Gavin was dressed again and Gavin definitely didn’t mind the process.

Gavin rolled away once they were done feeling strung out, body too exhausted to do anything more than sink into the silken sheets. Ryan sat up enough to wipe them both clean, but Gavin couldn’t find the will in him to stay awake. He’d never been the type to fall asleep after getting his rocks off, but it seemed like Ryan was a new experience entirely.

It had to just be a few hours later when Ryan kissed him awake again. “Again?” The older man asked softly, hands trailing down Gavin’s side almost reverently. Gavin answered with a soft kiss, too tired to hide how much he just wanted the other man.

That time it was softer, at least at the start. There was no burning urges or nervous laughter, just softly exploring touches and warm kisses. Ryan’s grip was tight on Gavin’s hand, fingers lacing together, but by the time their bodies were finally joining all Gavin could do was stare into those big blue eyes and drown in the affection there.

He shouldn’t be doing it. He couldn’t afford to have a new, defenseless boyfriend when his crew was probably going to be entering a three way gang war any day now. Gavin would be worse than selfish if he let this continue.

But he couldn’t see a way to stop. He couldn’t see a way to deny things any longer. He’d already let himself feel far too much for the other man and Gavin was not the kind of person to be able to deny himself something so good.

“I love you.” One of them whispered near the end. And by then Gavin was too far gone to be sure of which of them had spoken. All that mattered was that he was sure it was true.

They fell asleep again tangled up in each other, Ryan’s warm arms almost making Gavin feel safe.

It was later again when Gavin awoke for a second time, though this time his needs were a little simpler than trying to go another round. He wiggled free of Ryan’s grip, heart fluttering in a totally masculine way when Ryan’s forehead crinkled at the loss of contact.

“G’vin?” The older man murmured, reaching out towards him as if he would just drag him into bed again.

“I’ll be back. Gotta take a whiz.” He let himself kiss that little wrinkle, batting away Ryan’s reaching hand and knowing that he wanted nothing more than to climb back into bed once his trip to the bathroom was over. He didn’t even think about slipping away, about trying to stop this from becoming something more. This was too good not to be worth whatever it took for him to keep Ryan by his side, even if it meant a relationship where he never told his boyfriend the truth of what he did for a living.

The bathroom was easy to find, especially since the lights were still on throughout the rest of the unit. Gavin took the moment to flick off all the extra lights, before stumbling into the bathroom and focusing on getting his bladder emptied as quickly as possible so he could warm his tile-chilled feet on Ryan’s unprotected legs.

He wasn’t tired enough not to be curious though, and he was a little surprised to see an organizer stashed under the sink full of stage facepaint. It seemed Ryan had worked in the past at a more dramatic production, or even had a circus job before. He couldn’t picture Ryan in clown makeup, though if Ryan ever let him back in again, he’d definitely try to convince him.

Closing up the cabinets again, Gavin stumbled out of the bathroom and headed down the hallway to what he hoped was the right bedroom. He didn’t dare flick on the lights again, not wanting to totally ruin Ryan’s sleep by startling him awake. As he accidentally knocked into a desk, he realized his mistake.

If it wasn’t Ryan’s room, he could get away with turning on a light and quickly snooping then claiming he’d just gotten turned around. He was a little mind boggled still from everything and that was just Ryan’s fault and his responsibility.

He found a light on the desk, just a little cheap desk lamp with a switch at the base and a cheap plastic shell. It was bright though, making him blink blearily at the desk as the colors tried to swim into focus. The desk was dark wood, blending in well with the black, but he could pick out the blue chunks of leather right away.

It was the Vagabond’s coat, the sleeve roughly sliced open by a blade and it seemed like someone had already begun to repair the already patched coat. The silver stripes glinted at him like bone, harshly exposed against the bloodstains on the sleeve.

He turned towards the door, and was startled by a wall of skulls. After a moment, Gavin realized that they were just masks on stands, each a dark skull made of nightmares and latex, but there was no denying what this was.

Gavin was standing in the storage room of the Vagabond.

Ryan was the Vagabond.

Gavin’s knees felt weak as he made his way out of the room, headed for the door. The condo was well insulated, and he didn’t realize one of his biggest obstacles for escape until he literally tripped over his own hoody in the entryway.  
He was still naked and thoroughly marked, body sore in places that had felt only good an hour ago but now made him just feel confused and scared. What had Ryan planned to do to him? Why had Ryan tricked him like that?

Was Ryan even real? Or was it just all a game to get the better of the little punk that had tried to get between Jack Pattillo and a man who’d offended her.

He felt sick, but he didn’t dare vomit when he had to get out. Instead he pulled on the hoody, hands searching the pockets for anything useful. He just needed his phone, or even just his keys. He could live with leaving the house in just his hoody and maybe a stolen coat or two to keep his junk hidden as he gave Michael a collect call from one of those dinky pay phones still hanging around in the city.

Instead, his hands only found familiar metal and the only feeling of safety he’d ever fully trusted.

Drawing his gun, he squared his shoulders and headed closer towards the bedroom. He was too panicked to remember exactly where he’d tossed his jeans and shirt, but as he got closer and closer, he realized they had to be inside the killer’s bedroom.

Gavin didn’t feel brave as he stepped inside the dark bedroom, Ryan still sprawled across the sheets like a smug cat. No, not Ryan. The vagabond. Ryan couldn’t be real, could he? You couldn’t be both an absolutely harmless theatre nerd and the most bloodthirsty killer in the world.

He had to play it cool, had to just pretend he got cold feet. But it was hard to even take a step inside the room, let alone try to walk towards the killer in the dark, to try and get his jeans so he could run for his life.

His jeans were by the bed, and he only had the cold metal in his hands to keep him motivated as he moved closer to the sound of the Vagabond’s soft breathing. Gavin couldn’t get himself to breathe, too afraid he’d let out a frightened noise and let the other man know the con was up.

“Gavin?” The man’s voice didn’t ring out until the Brit was too close to the bed. A sleepy arm reached out for him, nearly catching his hip if Gavin hadn’t slipped out of the way. The older man finally seemed to wake up at the movement, sitting up with the quick movements of something dangerous.

And hadn’t Gavin been comparing him to a predator for a while now. The man wasn’t a predator, he was a Hunter. Gavin was alone in the dark with the most dangerous man he’d ever met, and the Vagabond looked angry. “What are you doing?”

“I have to…” Gavin licked his lips, unsure of how to admit to needing to flee. It seemed that the other man had achieved what Gavin had thought was impossible, stripping Gavin of all his glamour and masks and leaving him exposed to the world. He felt exposed to Ryan, and in no way related to his lack of clothes. He didn’t care who saw him naked, he only cared about who saw him weak and trembling by the wall, knees threatening to buckle.

He was dead. The Vagabond was going to kill him.

The older man started to stand, legs swinging out of the sheets so his feet could land on the floor with a noise like thunder in the silent room. The vagabond took a step forward, Gavin’s name a growl on his lips and hands reaching for the only thing Gavin had to defend himself with.

It was instinct by now to squeeze the trigger and let the metal in his hands save his life.

And Ryan…. And the Vagabond fell to the floor in a puddle of blood, a bullet wound going straight through his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemmie know if you wanna kill me. <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the next chapter is delayed. I'm hoping on moving this week and things could get pretty tangly depending on how long it takes me to figure out how to assemble ikea furniture,

The first time Gavin tried to check for a pulse, his hands shook too hard to grip the man's limp wrist. He had to leave the room entirely, taking deep breaths and forcing his heartrate down only because of years of experience. He’d killed dozens of men before, if not hundreds. Usually he avoided this step, the inevitable cleanup and cover ups, but this was different.

He’d just shot the second in command of their supposed allies. This hadn’t been something controlled or something he’d be able to brush off. People would notice if the Vagabond went missing. People saw him leave with Gavin.

It seemed that Jack had targeted him using his own technique. Ryan had slid into Gavin’s life completely. Ryan had been the perfect mixture of intriguing charm, and disarming dorky knowledge and Gavin had fallen for it. He'd fallen for the trick.

He'd fallen in love with a man who had never really existed.

But now that was already gone too far. The Vagabond was either dead or dying and there was no salvaging the mess that had begun.

And yet, when Gavin opened up the door a crack, peering back inside to see Ryan still lying there. He tried to remind himself that it wasn’t Ryan, that Ryan had never existed, but all he could see was that long messy tangle of hair and those warm strong arms that had been wrapped around him so tenderly just an hour before.

He checked for a pulse, this time able to pick up a slow but steady beat, off timed to his own. He had managed to miss any organs somehow, or else R- or else the Vagabond would already be dead, but with all that blood everywhere it couldn't be long before he would bleed out. He’d need a doctor if he was going to live until the morning, but what Gavin should do was much worse.

Gavin should finish the job and walk away.

There were pillows on the bed,it would be easy to just take one and stop the older man from ever breathing again. There were more bullets in his gun, he could just aim at the head this time. There had to be sharp knives and poisons in the apartment, since it belonged to the city’s top murderer.

Instead, Gavin found himself reaching for the sheets from the bed, struggling for moment before simply using his teeth to start a rip in the soft fabric.

Egyptian cotton made for smooth bandages, the fabric having little give and it was hard to pin. He’d bandaged bullet wounds before, but never so high on the chest. He struggled to rearrange the body, propping Ryan up against the end of the bed.

His hands lingered on the bandages afterwards, It didn’t matter that Gavin had killed the man before the Vagabond could do anything, it still felt like he had lost.

This man had played Gavin for a fool, and now the britt couldn’t even get himself kill him.

He didn’t realize he was shaking again until he caught himself leaning into the other’s side, seeking comfort from the cold skin of the man he was killing. “I need to do this.” He told himself softly. “I need to protect the others.”

If he let the Vagabond live, he’d be adding more risk. The man could recover soon enough to join Jack as she attacked Gavin’s crew, Gavin’s family, or he’d at least be able to tell her intel. He could tell her that Gavin was a weak bitch that couldn’t neutralize a threat even if it was lying naked and unconscious in a condo full of weapons.

Ryan’s pulse was slowing, each beat coming a little later than the last.

Ryan’s lips tasted like blood and death as Gavin stole one last kiss. “I love you.” He whispered, one last admission, before he took his things and left.

He called Michael from the lobby of the building, checking for blood as he waited for his ride. The edges of his sleeves were darker, but the red fabric hid it a little. On first glance you’d just think it was water.

There were no sirens as Gavin waited. The elevators were silent, not really moving up or down as the quiet neighbourhood slept. It would have been easier on Gavin if there had been noise and movement. Instead, it was all just proof that no one knew what he’d done. No one was going to go help Ryan.

All Gavin wanted to do was go back. He wanted to call in every favour he had, he wanted to go back up to the apartment and feel that heartbeat beneath his fingers. He wanted to go back and realize it was all some nightmare and Ryan, his Ryan, the sweater wearing dweeb would still be sprawled out on the bed, all warm touches and too charming smiles.

Instead, he stood in the quiet dark lobby, forcing the real Gavin down. After wanting to find himself for so long, it was a relief to bury himself again, hiding behind a mask. He defaulted to “the Golden Prince”, head up, shoulders squared, straightening out his spine as if didn’t feel the world on his shoulders.

Not even Michael saw through it.

The curly haired man smirked when he saw Gavin, “This is late for you.”

“We had more than one round.” Gavin shrugged, a leer crossing his face but fading just as fast. The Golden Prince didn’t leer. The golden prince didn’t shrug when he bragged. He should either be sprawling out and acting like a spoiled house cat, or he should complain about the hickeys and then fuss over his clothes.

But he couldn’t do any of it. All he could do was sink into the seat with a sigh, trying to cling to a mask so he didn’t worry Michael. Ryan was dead, Gavin had fucked up, but this was something only he should have to deal with.

If all else failed, he could just surrender to Jack, admit his fuckup and beg her to forgive his crew.

“Gavin? Gavin?” The brit belatedly realized that his friend was trying to catch his attention. His gaze had drifted down to the bloodstains on his cuffs, but his eyes shot back to Michael. The redhead was focused on the road, but he was frowning at the empty streets like they had been the ones to cause all this fuss. “You really cared about Ryan, huh?”

“It doesn’t matter now.” Gavin winced, before letting out a chuckle. “But nah, it never would have worked anyways.”

“He’d be dead cause of you.” Michael’s voice was firm, trying to scare some sense into the already terrified blonde. “I mean, you don’t wanna have that kinda blood on your hands, Gav, you’re a prick but I don’t think even you could handle being the cause of death of a lover.”

Gavin could only nod, not trusting his voice to stay steady if he tried to speak.

He did not know what to do when they got home. It was still more late night than early morning and yet it felt like that nights theatre practice was going to be too soon. He couldn't sleep, couldn't do anything more than lock himself in his room and sit on his bed. He surfed the net for a few hours on his phone, dialed Geoff's number countless times, even let himself call Ray, before hanging up on the second ring.

He had to turn himself into Jack. It was the only way to prevent this all from escalating further.

For a moment he just wandered through his contacts. He could call a few of his more obscure contacts, maybe tell Jack what he'd done and make her chase him. A good chase could either keep her attention off his friends or could prove too difficult during the gang wars and let Gavin escape with his life.

He chose one of the ones closest to the top, stomach churning as he let the phone ring and ring, uninterrupted until he was getting intercepted by a robotic voice mail. He licked his lips, forced himself to don the confident smile of the Golden Prince, and knew there was no going back after all this.

“Hey. It's me. I need a favour in your specialty….”

Hours later he was still a mess, though he had at least pulled on fresh clothes and just enough makeup to cover the bags under his eyes and how pale his face had become. There was no hiding how red his eyes were, even though he hadn't resorted to tears.

Ryan was probably still laid out on the bedroom floor, corpse starting to rot. Gavin could never remember how fast decomposing went, but he wanted to believe Ryan was still whole and unblemished, as if he was just asleep. As if someone could still go in there and fix him.

Gavin his his golden pistol in the pocket of his leather jacket, keeping his arms right to the side so he could feel it pressing against his ribs. It didn't feel nearly reassuring enough, but he waved away Michael when the redhead offered to come with him to practice.

“It's gunna be awkward enough seeing him, my boi. He won't wanna see your ugly gob.”

“Shut your gob.” Michael fired back, but didn't press. His friend could tell Gavin was being too affected by his castmate and their “one night stand” and Gavin was so grateful how quickly Michael had taken the stance of letting Gavin sort it out himself. It was probably the stupidest way Michael could be reacting to it all, since Gavin knew under other circumstances he’d still be secretly seeing Ryan on the side, but in this case it was for the best. Michael didn't need to be involved in the massive mistakes Gavin was making.

Gavin didn't go to practice.

He already knew Ryan wouldn't be there. And even though the show had to go on, no one would be too upset at him for missing one practice, especially when his main practice partner was missing. Instead, he drove to the other side of town, parking in a dilapidated parking garage and walking three blocks to his real destination.

It was a quiet night, but a little too dark, the moon blocked out by thick clouds. It was getting colder by the minute as he walked, but he enjoyed the slight chill since it distracted him from the ache in his chest and the tight twist of his stomach.

He walked up to the unfamiliar building, ringing the correct buzzer twice before walking away towards a quiet bus stop. He sat on the bench, not caring about the gum stuck across the seat or the syringes by the rubbish bin.

His contact slid out of his building, seemingly ignoring Gavin. He carried a take out bag, filled to the brim seemingly with garbage, but as he passed by the bin he dropped it on the bench beside it instead, as if by accident.

Gavin didn't take the bag until he was getting up to take the bus, dropping in a little too much money in the front simply because he hadn't bothered to bring the correct change.

Buses in their city were always on the wrong side of creepy and gross, the lights inside a little too dim and blue. Someone had sprayed a lesser gang sign on the very back of the bus, but Gavin still made a point of sitting just underneath it, not wanting to worry about anyone sitting behind him as he peered into the bag.

The bus headed straight for his destination, a convenience his contact had to use on a regular basis since the asshole had insisted on staying somewhat on the right side of the law and the wrong side of rich. He probably didn't even own a decent car, though with how much Gavin had just given him for this small bit of info and a few supplies the man could buy a BMW.

There was a security fob in the bag, one that would be reported as missing within the next hour to protect his supplier. There was an id badge, one from too long ago and belonging to a woman, but if no one took a good glance at the picture or the information, Gavin could pretend to be staff. That would have been more useful if Gavin had felt up to creating a disguise, but as it were he was more interested in staying in thick leather and having that golden pistol shoved into his side.

The real help that he’d gotten from Caleb though was the little scrap of paper, and Gavin had been careful to dispose of it well. It had only stated three things.

J. Doe, E.R. Room 405.

It was embarrassingly easy to sneak past the guards and enter through the supposedly secure doors. His hands shook a little once he entered the staff elevator, but he’d avoided the cameras and crowds thus far. There had been only one person admitteded into the hospital the night before under a false identity. This was the only hospital close enough for Ryan to have reached in time and it was more than a long shot but Gavin had to know. Gavin had to be sure that there was no chance that he’d ever see that smile again.

His heart nearly stopped when he stepped out onto the fourth floor and heard Jack Pattillo’s voice slide down the halls. “-Keep me updated. I want a phone call if there are any complications.” He could see her down the hall, staring intently at some poor nurse as they hovered just outside of 405. He couldn’t tell if that meant he had the best timing or the worst, but he was quick to turn and walk the other way, ducking inside an empty room as if he’d had a purpose. It didn’t matter, neither of the people in the hall seemed to have noticed him and he could still hear the distant murmur of the nurse’s voice. She didn’t speak as loudly as Pattillo, and with the noise of the hospital equipment coming from each room, it was impossible to guess at her words.

“Fine.” Pattillo nearly growled, before Gavin could hear the retreat of sharp heels, headed the other way.

He waited until the noise had become too faint before risking a glance down the hallway, not ready to face that woman until he knew how badly things were going. The nurse had disappeared, possibly into the very room Gavin needed to check, but he hadn’t a patient bone left in his body.

It felt like room 405 was too far away from him as he entered the hall, but the walk to its white open door felt like it only took two steps. The lights inside were dim, just bright enough to let nurses see the patient while pretending that the poor soul could sleep like that. The blankets were drawn up too high for him to see more than a peek of brown hair over the top of the white cotton.

“Ryan?” He breathed, knees going a little weak from relief as he pressed against the wall.

The blanket moved, revealing big blue eyes, then a cocked pistol as the unfamiliar woman sat up as best she could. She was injured, unable to sit up properly, but her gun arm was steady.

“Who are you?” She asked in an Australian accent, eyes sharp as glass.

“Probably dead.” Gavin murmured, raising his arms. “Its nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” She glanced at the still open door, but didn’t seem concerned at the thought of her holding someone at gunpoint in the middle of one of the few places cops tended to give a damn about.

Gavin was probably already dead.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay.
> 
> I moved house so I've been spending 50% of my time trying to find cheap things to fill my house, 50% of my time assembling ikea furniture, 50% of my time tying to get organized, 50% of my time dying of the flu, 50% of my time trying to keep up with my gaming crew, 50% of my time doing overtime at work and 10% of my time sleeping. In other words multitasking is hard.
> 
> Please don't worry if theres another pause or two between updates. I will hopefully be done soon but in the meantime everything is in chaos.
> 
> <3

“I met my wife like this.” The woman continued from her bed, gun hand steady even as her other arm struggled to support her up. She was holding herself up stiffly, and Gavin had been in the business long enough to recognize that she was favouring her stomach. She had to have gotten a surgery or something, since it had been bad enough for a member of Jack’s crew to be on bedrest in the actual hospital. Gavin wondered if she’d gotten attacked like Griffon had, or if it was something more benign. Even criminals got tonsillitis.

“That must have been interesting.” Gavin offered up, glancing back towards the door. “Look, “I don’t mean to intrude. How about we forget this happened-”

“You’re that Golden Kid from the Achievements aren’t you?” She let out a sharp laugh, then thought better of it, the only sign of her discomfort being the color draining from her face. Still, she kept her smile, eyes glittering with secrets. “I’ve heard about you.”

That was the final nail in his coffin and they both knew it.

“I’m sure then that you’ve heard that I’m not a bad guy. I won’t tell anyone I saw you here.” He really wouldn’t, mostly because Jack would kill him. Still, if the australian had learned anything, it had to have been how much Jack hated him or about how stupid he’d looked to the other ladies when they’d been watching him and Ryan.

It hit him again that it wouldn’t matter if the Hunters knew he’d found this woman (who had to be the wife of one the crew). He was already dead the moment they found Ryan’s dead body.

“I’m Caiti.” She said, setting down the gun and finally reaching out and grabbing the glasses by her bedside table. With them on she looked even frailer, but he didn’t let himself think for even one minute that she wasn’t dangerous. There was no way those ladies were the type of people to let their friend have a gun without training. The gun was still easily within her reach as well, and he didn’t want to even try to push things by pulling his gun. He’d lose no matter what.

His one hope was that she’d let him slip away. And he’d slip far, far away.

“I’m Jack’s wife.”

He grimaced. “Really?”

“She’s not that bad.” The woman let out a little giggle, not hiding her pain this time as she reached for her stomach. “She’s actually sweet once you know her.”

“Really?” He wiped the expression off his face, then shook his head. “No, sorry, that wasn’t what I meant. I need to go.”

“Oh relax.” She leaned back into her bed, eyes fluttering as if they were threatening to close on her despite her sharp expression. Even now, lounging back on the bed with her lips curled into a girlish grin, she couldn’t pass as harmless. “Ryan’s also told me a lot about you.”

“He has?” Gavin managed a smile, then a mask, covering up his fear and discomfort and he slid into the role Ryan had known him by. Gavin Free, the part time actor who’s only pressure in life was to find a way to get on a stage. “Did he tell you I’m the better actor?”

Her smile just grew sharper, the woman not thrown off at all by his mask. “He has. I think you already know how much he admires you.”

“As much as one murderer can love another I suppose.” He relaxed into his chair, trying to use confidence as a shield. Maybe he could bluff his way out of this. Maybe he could convince her to let him go.

“I find murderers just love harder.” Her eyes scanned his face, “You’re not used to this though, are you?”

“Used to what?” Gavin smiled harder, slipping into the Golden mask she seemed to be fishing for. “Talking shop? I’ve been at this for quite a while.”

“No. Trusting people.”

A laugh tore from his throat, hurting him harder than her laughs had hurt her. “Trust?”

“He trusts you enough to try and bring you in.” Any reservations she had shown seemed to melt away. “He told you to come here, didn’t he? He tricked you into coming here and meeting me.”

“No.” He shook his head. “He didn’t.”

“He did.” The australian gave him a hopeful, gleeful look. “He wanted us to meet. I’m like you, you know. I was from another crew. Jack and I were never supposed to meet.”

His stomach twisted, and he wondered if this was fate screwing with him. If this was karma. He’d shot and killed Ryan already and here was the pretty ethereal wife of his foe, honestly convinced that he and Ryan were something more. That they could have been something more.

“It's hard thinking about allying with us, I know.” She continued, still so earnest and sweet. “But I’ll talk with Jack. It’ll be fine. Ryan would do anything for you.”

The noise he made was involuntary, soft and pained. It was pathetic and such a rookie move that it just made the guilt and revulsion in his stomach worse.

He’d killed Ryan.

He had to kill Ryan.

Ryan had planned to kill him.

“I have to go.” Gavin murmured, unable to keep his masks in place. He felt too numb to smile or frown, face as blank as he felt as he looked at this woman who’d gotten everything she had wanted. This happy woman who had gotten to marry her lover. Who’d gotten to have a lover.

He’d killed Ryan.

The brit stood on unsteady legs, before clenching his fists and forcing his legs to be firm and solid, like the slightest push wouldn’t make him topple over. He stepped out to see an unfamiliar woman at the door, but he only gave her a nod before glancing back at Caiti, relaxed as he could manage. “I’ll talk to you again later. You should rest.”

“See you later.” She smiled, giving him a dismissive wave.

Gavin’s heart pounded as he shut the door and strolled away, glad the guard hadn’t tried to ask questions. He didn’t feel up to coming up with a mask, coming up with a lie to save himself.

If he turned himself into Jack it could spare his crew a war.

Instead he went to the one place where he knew who he was. It was on the other end of town, but he walked, weighed down by the golden pistol in his pocket and the words echoing in his ears.

He had killed Ryan.

The theatre was closed by the time he got there, and he was fairly certain his legs were sore from the walk. It was hard for him to feel anything though, other than the need to get on that stage.

Lock picking was easy. Guessing the password to the security system was even easier, though he’d had his phone nearby in case it was something more complicated than 1234. Sometimes he wondered why people had security systems if they were just going to give them a stupid password anyone could guess. He locked up behind him, not wanting any hobos or hoodlums wandering in behind him.

It was always too quiet in a building like that when it was empty and dark. He didn’t bother with the lights, not needing to see to know exactly where to go. It almost felt like he had fallen asleep and he was wandering through a dream.

There were faint lights in the theatre itself, low glow in the dark emergency ones along the walkways and Gavin bet at one point in time a health inspector had made them be put in place so you could always see the way out. They looked worse without any lights on the stage and without the slight obscuring of an audience. Bags and coats would always be placed along there by the unwise. It was the easiest place to put your stuff but also the easiest place for someone to trip over it or steal it. But that was the way of the theatre, there was always the thrum of a crowd, always the one person who had their bag stolen or stepped on. Always that one person with a cold who couldn’t seem to catch a break.

And there was the stage, dark and solid, like shadow made solid. He walked right up to the center, running a hand along the smooth top before he jumped up like a man exiting a pool, rolling away from the edge and pressing his cheek to the ground.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered to the air. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

There was a heavy click, like someone resetting a breaker near the back of the auditorium and suddenly Gavin was bathed in light. It was such a startling thing that he could only act on instinct, rising to his feet in a fluid motion and hand drawing his gun. It was far too bright a light however, especially when he’d been in near complete darkness before, and all he could see wa the flare of the lights, blinking in and out as he involuntarily closed his eyes. “Who is there?

“If…” A strong voice came from the back, not wavering in their execution, just drawing out the word for impact. “Love be rough with you, be rough with love; Prick love for pricking and you beat love down.”

And that did feel like beating him down. He tried harder to see, but the world was reduced down to his little oasis on the stage and that bright light so far away. It was like a beam from heaven had opened up in front of him, shining down on his dark soul and burning him in its intensity.

But this was not a piece of heaven. This was hell. And even if his heart was pounding and something inside him began to loosen, he knew this was not a sign of good things to come.

A figure came up to the stage, rising up into the only light and obscuring it, just the outline of a person instead of features or expressions. They practically just stepped up onto the stage, strong and sure in their approach even though Gavin could smell antiseptics and blood. How could he smell the blood. There was no way he could smell the blood.

A hand reached up for his gun and he couldn’t get himself to hold onto it, letting the other man tug it from his grip and fling it across the stage as if it were a toy. The other hand gripped his wrist, iron tight.

“You’re supposed to be dead.” Gavin murmured, tears in his eyes from the bright light, smile on his face from the shock.  


Ryan just squeezed his wrist harder. “You failed. So now we’re going to play by my rules.”


End file.
